


as nature intended

by flirtygaybrit



Category: Aquaman (2018), DC Extended Universe
Genre: ...there is currently no tag to describe 'eating out a genital slit', Alien Biology, Barebacking, Half-Sibling Incest, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slime, self-fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 03:52:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17399528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flirtygaybrit/pseuds/flirtygaybrit
Summary: Things were going to get messy.





	as nature intended

**Author's Note:**

> The Hotline asked for gratuitous slime, and [gratuitous slime](http://jeb.biologists.org/content/208/24/4613) the Hotline shall receive. This fic may be (but is not required to be) considered a spiritual successor to [lead by example](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15967691).

On the Strandir coast of Iceland, a wooden door swung open to reveal the cold, dark interior of Arthur’s safehouse.

It was a small cabin that Arthur had found himself in possession of years ago, having deemed its owner likely long since departed or dead. Three rooms were all that made up the cabin: a sparsely-furnished bedroom, a kitchen with a few pots and pans and cabinets that were mostly empty, save for a handful of outdated canned goods, and a room that served as a storage space for wilderness survival essentials; a pile of firewood sat unused in the corner, and a number of rusted tools, saws and axes and the like, had collected dust and appeared to be frozen to the surface of a worn workbench. 

Arthur stepped into the cabin and took a deep breath. The air was stale, the interior of the cabin cooler than the exterior after being boarded up for the past several months. A fire would warm the entire cabin easily, and with the curtains pulled back the midday sun would lend its own heat and light. 

“Charming,” said a voice behind him. Arthur kicked his boots off and stepped aside to allow his brother entry, and Orm took a moment to examine his surroundings, tracking snow across the creaking wooden floorboards as he spun in place. It wasn’t Orm’s first time inside a surface residence, but it was his first time in Iceland, and Arthur was pretty sure the decor spoke for itself. “Would you consider this a luxury home?”

“Nope. Kinda shitty, even for some trapper or hunter. But it’ll do.”

Orm nodded, satisfied. His breath steamed in the air as Arthur moved around him to pull open the curtains and let in the light, but he seemed utterly unconcerned about the cold and the snow. Atlanteans were accustomed to the extreme temperatures of the ocean’s depths. A few degrees in the negatives wouldn’t bother either of them in the least.

“Shall I wait?”

Arthur pulled another curtain open. Splintered light filtered into the cabin for the first time in months, and as he glanced over at his brother the light caught Orm’s eyes and caused them to gleam silver for a brief moment. “Nah, go make yourself comfortable. Take your jacket off, get cozy. I won’t be long.”

“Hm,” Orm said. He turned first toward the storage room, and after a quick assessment took a step toward the open door leading to the small bedroom instead. “Take all the time you need. I intend to evert even in your absence.”

Right. They were here because Arthur had spent the past few weeks tying up some weird leadership issues on the surface with the ragtag team of metahumans he’d found himself allied with, and though he’d found himself yearning to return home, there were still a few diplomatic things he had yet to deal with.

But Arthur couldn’t wait, and neither could Orm, and Iceland was just so… convenient.

“You’d better not,” he called. Orm, already inside the darkened bedroom, didn’t respond.

The bed wasn’t even made up. The mattress would still be covered with the same ratty quilts that Arthur had found on it when he claimed the cabin as his own. Surely Orm could wait for him to grab some towels, or a spare set of curtains, or _something_.

Things were going to get messy. 

 

Orm’s clothing was piled on the floor near the bed, jacket and shirt and pants crumpled beneath the glittering silver undersuit that Orm had worn on his way to the surface, and the snow hadn’t yet begun to melt in the cool air. He made quite a sight on the old single mattress, lounging semi-reclined against what Arthur assumed was a handmade wooden headboard; his thighs were parted, one knee bent with a foot resting against the bed and one stretched out toward the door, and to Arthur’s surprise he hadn’t actually everted yet—though the hand draped over his stomach rested suspiciously close to the long, dark slit that ran the length of the space between his thighs. The position of his legs had parted the slit just enough to tantalize, but there was no hint of the long, smooth cock that Arthur knew was hidden within.

“...Uh. Wow. That was fast,” Arthur said. He’d only stopped to pull a handful of faded towels out of a small closet. It had literally taken him fewer than twenty steps.

A lascivious smile spread over Orm’s face. He relished this sort of attention, and tended to spare no expense when it came to theatrics. “Mmm.”

Arthur tossed the towels on the bed, and now found his eyes drawn to the hand draped over Orm’s torso. Orm had begun to trace languid circles over the flat surface of his abdomen, and it was nearly impossible for Arthur to tear his eyes away long enough to hold Orm’s gaze. “I’m supposed to believe you were gonna go ahead and start without me?”

“Perhaps.” Orm’s fingers were just close enough to his genital slit that the motion pulled it open slightly, revealing glistening, deep red flesh before Orm’s fingers continued along their path and his slit closed up again. Arthur exhaled a puff of steam, wet his lips, then tugged a string from his wrist and tied back his hair. “Were you not going to join me?”

His question delivered temptation like a gut punch. It carried the same false indignance and shock that Arthur had fallen for when Orm had baited him into a gladiator match in an active volcano, only there was no malicious intent behind this particular provocation; his fingers circled once more toward his slit, and this time they caught the edge, revealing a bit more of the dark space within.

Arthur shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it on the floor. His shirt followed quickly after.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?”

“And you are not the first to suggest it.” Orm lifted a leg as Arthur crawled onto the mattress and settled between his parted thighs, and when Orm’s calf rested on his shoulder Arthur turned his head and pressed a kiss to it, then glanced up. His brother gazed back down at him with a cocksure smile, and Arthur couldn’t help but spend a moment admiring him. Even among the threadbare quilts and aged wood grain of the headboard, he was the very picture of opulence. He commanded the attention of every living thing in the room, even without the glittering armour and the booming speeches and—well, everything that made Orm _Orm_.

Arthur chuckled quietly and left a trail of open-mouthed kisses along the inside of his brother’s thigh. There were many perks to being the king of an entire underwater civilization as advanced as Atlantis, but this was Arthur’s favourite part of having dethroned his brother: if he worshipped Orm now, he did so on his own terms.

As Orm sighed contentedly and rested the weight of his leg over Arthur’s shoulder, Arthur leaned in, nosed Orm’s hand out of the way, and traced the tip of his tongue over the soft skin of Orm’s slit. He tasted like seawater on the outside, and Arthur spent a moment tonguing gently at the outermost flesh before he bowed his head and licked in deeper.

Orm’s slit parted easily beneath his mouth, and Orm voiced his satisfaction with a soft moan. The soft, slick flesh within was warmer than Arthur’s tongue, and the taste of him immediately filled Arthur’s mouth, the sharp brine momentarily overwhelming his senses as his saliva mixed with his brother’s natural fluids.

It didn’t take long for the taste to fade, and Orm’s vocal approval was all the encouragement Arthur needed. With his thumb and forefinger, he gently spread Orm apart and began to lick into him properly, seeking the hot, wet surface of the cock that lay coiled within. He could feel it shift against his tongue, and again his mouth was filled with the same thick, sticky fluid that caught in his beard and dripped down his chin.

Eating Orm out was easy. All he had to do was ignore the slime.

It wasn’t long before Orm’s fingers found their way into Arthur’s hair, and Arthur groaned softly as Orm began to massage his scalp with those same lazy circles. It was nice to start out like this, slow and tender, with Orm rocking his hips lazily against the pressure of Arthur’s mouth and moaning breathlessly as Arthur mirrored the motion of Orm’s fingers with his tongue, swirling it gently against the solid mass of Orm’s cock. There was too much of it to comfortably draw into his mouth at such close quarters—he knew from experience, and Orm knew not to demand that of him immediately—yet he still felt the slick tip of it curling against his chin, a soft fleshy taper that slid hopefully close to his mouth until Arthur growled and lifted his head.

“No fuckin’ way. Not after last time.”

A sheet of viscous, translucent slime stretched from Orm’s slit to Arthur’s chin, and he could feel more still clinging to his beard and cooling in the air on his face. While his eyes were narrowed at Orm’s face, he could still see Orm’s cock slide out at last, the entire length of it steaming gently in the chilled air, and he wrinkled his nose as it curled up against the side of his cheek in a parody of a lover’s caress. It was disgusting, and it was only the beginning.

“But you looked so lovely with my cock in your throat,” Orm said dreamily. He reached down and traced his fingers down over Arthur’s cheekbone, smearing the slime below the line of Arthur’s beard until his fingers rested against the side of Arthur’s trachea. His gaze was unfocused and yet he seemed satisfied with the gesture, as if the ghost of a touch had granted him the phantom sensation of having his cock stuffed down Arthur’s esophagus. “But I desire something more.”

Orm’s cock drew back, drifting lazily in the air like the stipe of a kelp in water, and Arthur gazed up at him expectantly for an uncomfortably long time.

“...You gonna make me ask, then?”

“I thought you might intuit it,” Orm said. Obviously, he wasn’t in a hurry. “But since you asked politely…”

Delicately, Orm lifted his leg from Arthur’s shoulder and pushed himself upright. He always seemed off-put by gravity’s pull when they fucked on the surface, but he was more sure of himself now, and his request became evident as he carefully turned away from Arthur and knelt on all fours, spreading his thighs and arching his back in a move nearly identical to one Arthur had once discovered during a late-night internet browsing session on his dad’s old desktop computer. 

Unlike in the video, however, Arthur watched as the dark tip of Orm’s cock curled back beneath him and slid over his bared anal slit, leaving a sticky trail in its wake that glistened faintly in the light from the kitchen.

The first time Arthur had fucked him, Orm had insisted that this was the best way to prepare. He’d never officially named it an absolute requirement, but Arthur had watched Orm slick himself often enough that it no longer surprised him to see the tip of Orm’s cock disappear inside his ass. His brother’s cock wasn’t excessively thick, but it was long—and watching the full length of it push carefully into Orm’s body was more than enough to create a sympathetic ache in Arthur’s own groin.

After a moment of dazed observation, Arthur dragged himself to the side of the bed. He unbuttoned his jeans and shoved them down his thighs, and was temporarily distracted by the wet sound of a glob of slime dripping onto the quilt between Orm’s thighs. 

Arthur swallowed. He could see Orm’s cock twisting slowly, and Orm’s head was turned toward him, watching him with faint amusement while he fucked himself. On second thought, maybe it was something Arthur would never fully grow used to. 

“Just let me know when you’re wet enough.”

Wet, as Arthur knew it, was a concept that Orm wasn’t wholly familiar with. Atlanteans were always wet, and the strange slime they secreted somehow managed to be even wetter. Arthur knew there was some perfectly natural physiological mechanism behind it, something that involved glands and exudate and saline saturation that made Atlantean secretions so distinctive, but it was beyond his ability to care when Orm was slowly stretching himself open with his own cock, slicking his insides to prepare for Arthur to fuck him next. 

Science was boring as hell compared to his little brother on his knees.

As though reading his thoughts, Orm arched his back and groaned quietly. He was so deep inside himself that his cock was pressed flush along the underside of his pelvis, bent completely backward as Orm strained to fuck himself as deeply as possible. Christ, what Arthur wouldn’t have given to have Superman’s X-ray vision. 

“Soon.”

Arthur kicked his pants off and found himself shivering, though he wasn’t even in the realm of cold at this point. He ran hot naturally, and the sight of his brother like this always did wonders for his body temperature. 

Well, there was more that Arthur could do while he waited for the okay. He stuck two fingers inside his mouth, coating them thoroughly with saliva, then reached beneath Orm and ran his fingers along the exposed surface of his brother’s cock. It was hot to the touch, and translucent strands of slime formed on contact and clung to his fingertips as he traced a line down and between Orm’s thighs, seeking the soft flesh and heat of his genital slit. Orm inhaled sharply as Arthur slid both fingers inside and framed his cock at the base. Slime gelled in the open space between his fingers, and as Arthur rubbed gently at Orm’s cock he could feel slippery strands of it pooling in his palm before dripping onto the quilt below.

“Fuck,” Arthur murmured to himself. “You know how amazing this is gonna be?”

“Mmhm.”

“You know I missed this. I’ve been thinking about fucking you for… what? Three weeks now?”

“You haven’t been away for even a fortnight,” Orm mumbled. His eyes were half-lidded, and Arthur couldn’t help but grin at him.

“Close enough. Feels like longer, though.”

Orm groaned quietly as Arthur wrapped his fingers around the thick base of his cock, and Arthur took that as a sign of acquiescence as he began to withdraw his brother inch by inch, sliding him through his hand until at last the tip of Orm’s cock—along with a particularly thick mass of slime that slopped over Arthur’s fingers with a wet noise—slipped out.

“I think that will suffice,” Orm sighed. Arthur raised a brow at him, and all he did was smile back.

Beautiful, but insufferable.

Arthur wrapped both hands around Orm’s cock and gave him a long, firm stroke from root to tip. By now both hands were sufficiently wet, and Arthur used the residue to slick up his own cock before rubbing his fingers gently over his brother’s anal slit. Orm shuddered briefly and parted his thighs, and Arthur pressed three fingers easily into him. More slime leaked out between his fingers, now tinted with the gentle blue glow of his precome.

“Well, if this doesn’t do it, I don’t know what will,” Arthur said decisively. He withdrew his fingers and crawled into place behind Orm, resting sticky hands on Orm’s hips before he rubbed the head of his cock over his brother’s anal slit. It had been too long since he’d felt Orm’s warmth around him, and he found himself shaking off a brief swell of emotion to pat his brother’s ass. “You gonna beg for me, or do I have to intuit that, too?”

Orm’s face was hidden from view, but Arthur could still feel the rumble of his laughter.

*

“Holy fuck,” Arthur gasped as his orgasm overtook him. It was the most intelligent and impactful statement he could muster on such short notice, and quite frankly, that didn’t even begin to cover the spectrum of what he was experiencing.

He’d spent maybe— _maybe_ —ten minutes at most fucking Orm, which was perhaps a fraction of the amount of time he’d _intended_ to spend fucking Orm. Ten minutes was not the appropriate amount of time to spend fucking someone for the very first time. Even fifteen minutes would have been better, and at best, he would have liked to spend the rest of eternity wrapped up in his brother’s arms, but this was… well, it would have to do for now. Orm was scorching hot on the inside, his body somehow even warmer and smoother here than the shallow space within his genital slit, and Arthur had only just gotten used to the sensation of that. But it wasn’t the heat or the texture that startled Arthur into an orgasm so much sooner than anticipated—it was the pleasure that Orm was so obviously lost in, his body wracked with a climax so hot on the heels of his own that Arthur wasn’t entirely sure which of them had peaked first.

And the slime. Definitely the slime.

Arthur was used to the gentle bioluminescence of Atlantean ejaculate now, and this wasn’t it. He hadn’t noticed the slime on land before and so the first time they’d fooled around in the water it had fascinated him, forming smoke-like clouds that occasionally sloughed off the length of Orm’s cock before drifting away in the current… but never like this. The slime seemed to be coming from everywhere now, billowing up between them like a geyser and distorting his view of Orm until he had to rear back and wave a hand through it to clear the water.

The slime clung to his hand, and more simply seemed to take its place. It was like a living, breathing thing.

And it was still coming. 

Within seconds the translucent slime had expanded and now fully occupied the space between them, and it was… uncomfortable, to say the least. It slid across Arthur’s skin like a whisper, and he could even taste it in the water. He might’ve even swallowed a little bit of it by accident, and it left a foul, briny tang in his mouth.

Arthur began to cough. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Orm waving a hand gently through the water, encouraging a gentle current until the slime began to drift away and sink toward the seafloor. When Arthur finally managed to catch his breath, he could see that Orm’s brow was furrowed in concern, which was by no means an expression Arthur would wish to see on anyone’s face after ten minutes of spectacular, passionate sex. Jesus, he’d probably never want to fuck him again after this.

“Did you ingest it?” Orm asked softly. He braced a foot against the soft sponge bed that they’d settled on and gently separated himself from Arthur, his cock already coiling and withdrawing into the slit between his legs.

Arthur shook his head and cleared his throat once more. He’d tasted a lot of things in his life and this was by far the worst. No wonder the sea was so goddamn salty. “I think so. Did you know that was gonna happen?

Orm gazed at him with a benign amusement. 

“Cool,” Arthur said, scratching sheepishly at his scalp. It was still a little sticky, and he might’ve left some slime in his hair. “Yeah, I totally knew that was coming too. Don’t eat the slime. First thing they said when I came down here.”

His brother’s face softened further, and this time he actually chuckled as he drew himself upright and curled his arms around Arthur’s shoulders. “Ninety-nine percent of it is simply seawater,” he murmured, then leaned in and kissed Arthur sweetly. He tasted infinitely better than the slime. “You will be fine. And you’ll have ample time to grow accustomed to it.”

This was more like the post-coital tenderness that Arthur had been expecting. He held his brother for quite some time, trading soft, slow kisses as they drifted together in the water. If Orm tasted any remnants of the slime on his tongue, he didn’t say so—and in fact, it was Arthur who first broke the kiss. 

“Hey,” he murmured, “what’s the other one percent made of?”

*

Arthur was used to the smooth, consistent glide provided by the slime underwater, but on land the slime’s saturation depended on the room’s humidity and the presence of other sources of moisture. His first thrust was always tentative no matter how easily he was able to enter his brother, but this time Orm was slick enough that Arthur felt comfortable falling into a light, easy rhythm, fucking him leisurely with both hands framing Orm’s hips.

Orm seemed to have no complaints about that. He moaned as Arthur rocked against him, spreading his thighs to better brace himself on the bed. His cock was nowhere to be seen now, but Arthur had often seen him coil it near his body when they fucked like this. It didn’t bother Arthur, and the sweet sounds he made were proof enough that he was enjoying himself so far.

“God, you’re fucking amazing,” Arthur groaned. He rubbed a hand against the side of Orm’s thigh and back up along his side, leaving sticky blue fingerprints on his ribcage. “I might have to melt some of that snow and get you wet for real.” He slid his fingers over Orm’s anal slit and thumbed over the soft, sensitive flesh stretched around his cock. Orm whined and clenched around him, and Arthur heard another mass of slime hit the quilt with a wet noise before sliding down into the dip in the mattress near his knee. “Would that get you excited?”

“Yes,” Orm hissed. He pushed back against Arthur’s hips and Arthur could feel him shudder as Arthur ground against him. “You know how good the water feels.”

“Water’s good. But you like my cock better than your own.” Arthur grinned down at the smooth curve of Orm’s back, and when he reached beneath his brother Orm’s cock met his fingers eagerly, winding around his wrist and between his fingers. Orm was exceptionally good at finding new ways to stimulate himself when Arthur was too preoccupied to jerk him off, and the sharp sound he made as Arthur tugged against his grasp meant he’d found yet another. “Yeah, you know how hot it is when you do this for me, don’t you? Nothing’s better than seeing you fuck yourself open for me.”

Arthur squeezed Orm’s cock, and Orm’s voice was hoarse when he said, “And you know all else pales in comparison to you.” 

Jesus, it was hot. Shakespeare couldn’t hold a candle to this guy.

Careful not to lose his rhythm, Arthur leaned down over Orm, slid his fingers through his brother’s hair, and held his free hand in front of Orm’s face.

“Open up for me.”

Orm parted his lips without hesitation, and he moaned loudly, releasing a puff of steam that curled up into the air as Arthur slid two fingers inside Orm’s mouth and rubbed them against the soft surface of his tongue. When his fingers were thoroughly soaked with saliva, Arthur held Orm’s cock aside and slid his fingers back into his genital slit, rubbing them firmly against the base of his brother’s cock until he felt the slickness there drip between his fingers once more. The quilts and mattress beneath them were almost certainly soaked through, and would likely freeze when they were gone… but the slime was still mostly water, harmless if messy, and Orm was so beautiful like this.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Arthur murmured, now half-curled over Orm to mouth along the length of his spine. Orm’s cock tightened around his hand and Arthur could feel fluid dripping down the length of his forearm, too. That, at least, would stain. “You’re gonna soak this bed for me, aren’t you, baby brother?”

Orm keened, and Arthur squeezed his cock again and began to fuck him in earnest. The slime still provided plenty of lubrication, and it was clear that neither of them would be able to hold out for much longer. Orm getting riled up always got _Arthur_ riled up, and there was nothing he wanted more than to feel his brother writhing against the mattress as he fucked him into oblivion.

“C’mon, tell me how you want it,” Arthur encouraged. Precome was dripping steadily down his arm, and he could see the steam from Orm’s ragged, panting breaths rising into the air. Slime had pooled around the two of them, growing saturated from the moisture of Orm’s precome and the air’s humidity, and wobbled almost comically as Arthur fucked Orm even faster.

“Arthur, I want you to—please, I want to feel—”

This was as close as Orm would get to begging, but this was what Arthur wanted. He groaned hoarsely and curled over Orm’s back, holding Orm’s hip hard enough to bruise while Orm’s cock wound tighter around his hand. He wasn’t going to last much longer. Two weeks was two weeks too many. “I know, I’m gonna fill you up, I promise.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Orm rasped. He was shoving back against Arthur now, his cock’s grip hard enough to shatter bone. “Yes, Arthur—”

Arthur came first, burying himself deep inside his brother as his orgasm crashed over him, but he had no time to lose himself in the white noise of pleasure; the slick exudate that Orm had fucked into himself soaked up his release upon contact and, now saturated to capacity, filled the tight space around Arthur’s cock with a near-unbearable pressure. Arthur could feel some of it trickling out around his cock and sloshing down onto the bed and over the edge onto the floor, and he was helpless to do anything but empty himself inside Orm and ride out his orgasm.

The slime kept coming. It stuck to his thighs and Orm’s, and Arthur was so occupied with keeping his brother plugged that he only belatedly noticed that his arm was now slick with Orm’s own release. His fingers were numb.

“That’s it,” he whispered, pressing open-mouthed kisses against Orm’s back. He felt like he’d never catch his breath. “You’re so beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

For some time they remained there, both of them steaming in the cool cabin air as slime dripped slowly off the bed and onto the floor. It was a relief when Orm’s grip on Arthur’s hand loosened at last, his cock uncoiling and disappearing into his body with a slick noise. Arthur lifted his hand, flexing his fingers to encourage blood to circulate, and saw that his forearm was streaked with a distinctive blue stain that was already growing tacky on his skin.

“Goddamn,” he said quietly, then laughed and pushed himself upright and reached for the small pile of towels that had miraculously escaped the sliming. He was mildly impressed. “I’m gonna pull out. You good?”

“Nnh,” Orm said.

Wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, and even Orm had to submit to the mind-numbing haze of orgasm. Arthur pulled out slowly, then sat back on his knees with a gusty exhale and watched as the rest of the slime began to leak from Orm’s body, oozing down his thighs and dripping onto the bed where it mixed with the blue-tinted exudate. He didn’t even want to guess at how much was still in there, and most of it now pooled on the floor, soaking into Orm’s clothing and puddling around his boots.

Atlanteans really were amazing.

“Maybe we’ll put down some puppy pads next time,” Arthur said. The slime, fast losing moisture to the quilts and towels, almost seemed to be congealing around his knees. Globs of it stuck to his skin until gravity pulled them toward the floor, and sticky strands tugged uncomfortably at his leg hair as he crawled backward off the bed. 

Orm remained patiently in place until the last of the slime seemed to be safely contained on the towels, then followed Arthur off the bed. He stepped directly in the puddle of slime and grimaced. Arthur couldn’t tell if it was the slime or the wooden floorboards that displeased him most. It definitely wasn’t the concept of puppy pads. 

“Maybe,” Orm agreed. He left wet footprints on the floor that Arthur knew would freeze over once the sun went down, and paused on his way past Arthur to tip his face up for a soft kiss. Arthur had a final towel in his hand, a larger one, and Orm seemed pleased when Arthur wrapped it around his waist. “Or maybe a current will be present to carry it away.”

“Just as nature intended,” Arthur said solemnly. He curled his arm around Orm’s waist and, pressing another kiss to his brother’s temple, wiped his hand discreetly on the towel over Orm’s backside. “Suppose we should clean this up?”

They glanced in unison at the thick mass of slime that had somehow spread over half of the bedroom floor. It would take a lot of towels to clean up—or maybe just a single roaring fire crackling in the fireplace, heating the small cabin while they shared a modest meal and enjoyed the solitude of the Westfjords.

“I suggest cleaning yourself first,” Orm said. His eyes crinkled with amusement at the corners, and Arthur had the distinct impression that Orm wanted very much to point out that there was something on Arthur’s face.

Arthur raised a brow, daring his brother to tell him precisely what sort of mess he would find when he looked in the mirror. He wiped the back of his hand against his cheek and it came away blue.

“...Charming,” he said after a moment.

Orm beamed at him.


End file.
